


Caught by the Light

by MsEllieJane



Series: Lives Intertwined [1]
Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Iceland in January just because, Katrina is a badass, Klingon pain sticks are scary, Lorca is prepared for everything, Smut, hopefully an angst/fluff/smut trifecta, klingon torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-07 05:12:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12834033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsEllieJane/pseuds/MsEllieJane
Summary: While held captive by the Klingons, Katrina turns to her memories for strength.





	1. Code of Conduct

**Author's Note:**

> So many thanks to the lovely [LizBee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizBee/pseuds/LizBee) and [Caressyouintodarkness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/caressyouintodarkness/pseuds/caressyouintodarkness) for being amazing beta readers!

The cell on the ship of the dead was seven paces by five paces, measured in her head on repeat as she walked. On her first day she spent roughly three hours sleeping, an hour in fitful meditation, and another hour exercising. She pushed the limits of her body, though she knew from her long-ago survival training that she should conserve her energy. She ignored her better judgment because it was the only thing that put her thoughts on mute and temporarily banished the memories. Push-ups, sit-ups, lunges, planks, even some yoga she picked up during her assignment at Starfleet Medical. She heard the guard snort in derision a few times, which only made her push herself harder.

Then they came for her.

Again, she tugged on the lifeline of that long ago training, going by the book and keeping her gaze straight ahead, trying not to squint at the bright lights pointed at her. Her interrogator spoke English roughly, as though the language hurt his tongue to speak it.

“What do you know of the weapon Starfleet is developing?”

“Cornwell, Katrina. Starfleet Vice Admiral. Service number 0029417.”  She kept her voice even, biting back the slight tremble that crept up.

Again the Klingon spoke, bringing his face next to her’s, shouting his demand so loudly her ears rang. She didn’t blink.

“Cornwell, Katrina. Starfleet Vice Admiral. Service number 0029417.” She could do this all day, had in fact done so for a record-setting length of time many years ago. Her  instructors had been baffled that a skinny med student on track to be a ship’s counselor didn’t break under any of the interrogation methods Starfleet Academy was permitted to use. She doubted her captors were under such limitations.

The Klingon howled in anger and backhanded her across the face, making her see stars. She had been slapped a few times in her life under various circumstances but never like this. She felt her neck pop from the force, and she suppressed a grunt of pain. Barely giving her a chance to catch a breath, the interrogator shouted his question, accompanied by another slap on the other side of her face.

It took her a few moments this time, and she knew there were tears streaming down her face from the sudden pain, but she once again stared straight ahead, repeating herself.

“Cornwell, Katrinal. Starfleet Vice Admiral. Service number 0029417.”

This time there were punches to the abdomen, doubling her over as she gasped for breath. The interrogator then yanked her up by the back of her neck, shouting what she assumed were curses, and slammed her head against the back of the chair she sat in. She bit back the pain, trying to keep her breath even as she detached herself. Flashes of recent memories, of a hand on her throat and a phaser at her head popped up unbidden.  It took longer this time as she sought that place in her mind she could retreat to.

“Cornwell, Katrina. Starfleet Vice Admiral. Service number 0029417.”

He continued but never with enough force to do any serious damage. He was holding himself back, probably hoping she was a desk-jockey softened by age and easily broken. How adorable.

She smiled and he howled, knocking one of the lights so that it pointed directly at her. It was at that moment, with the lights searing her eyes until tears ran down her face that she understood, maybe just a tiny bit, what it was like for Gabriel. The blows to the face and abdomen, the shouted commands, those she could tune out and store someplace in the back of her mind. She would deal with them later. The lights, however, could not be so neatly compartmentalized.

When she was dragged back to her cell and unceremoniously dumped inside, she was still blind, her eyes burning and head throbbing. It took what felt like hours, counting her breaths in and out until her heart rate slowed, before she was ready to open them again. She still felt rather than saw the afterimage on her cornea, a circle neatly etched. She couldn’t stifle the whimper that came out of her, hating that weakness, knowing it couldn’t be helped.

The pain from her injuries returned to the forefront, doubling her over as she pinched her nose to stop the bleeding. Eventually she opened her eyes and found the afterimage had faded into the background. She also found half a ration bar and container of water on the central pedestal in the room. Gingerly making her way over, she hauled herself up, aching the entire way. She drank half the water and ate two bites of  the ration bar, saving the rest. She tore a bit of jacket lining out and used it to clean the lacerations on her face and arms. Perhaps she would wind up with a strange scar to match his...

That brought up ugly thoughts she didn’t want process yet. She would have plenty of time to do that later.

She concentrated instead on remembering her survival training and recited bits of the Starfleet Code of Conduct under her breath,

_I will never surrender of my own free will._

_If I am captured I will continue to resist by all means available. I will make every effort to escape and aid others to escape._

_When questioned, should I become a prisoner of war, I am required to give name, rank, and service number. I will evade answering further questions to the utmost of my ability._

She second guessed her actions with each step. Had she given in too easily when the Klingons ambushed her? Could she have done anything to save the crewmembers who escorted her and were struck down so suddenly. Had she resisted enough or did she show weakness in front of the enemy? Did she inadvertently give them any information she shouldn’t have? She had recited her name/rank/service number so many times her voice had grown hoarse, but was that enough? She lowered herself down to the floor and lay there prone with her jacket covering her face. Her doubts circled her head like angry insects. She needed to clear them and focus on something that would let her mind process the last 48 hours without breaking. A happy memory, somewhere safe. Something far removed from her current circumstances.

She sifted through her favorite memories. Hazy childhood snapshots, comforting and familiar. Her first kiss at the age of 19, later than most but so precious. Her first day at Starfleet Academy, her graduation, her first posting as assistant counselor on the _Marie Curie_. The day she was promoted to Rear Admiral, surrounded by well-wishers, seeking out one particular face in the crowd that wasn't there. They all floated by and drifted away. One memory was quickly banished but not before the image of distant lights falling through the sky and a warm body over hers left an impression.

Then one memory made itself known and would not leave. It was the last time they had been together. _No, not the last time_.

The last time was...unsettling. It was still so raw and painful and she was having trouble processing her experience. If...when she got out, she and Gabriel were going to have a very long talk. One that would most likely end with him losing his ship.

Her mind went back to the happier memory, one that was unwanted under the current circumstances. She took deep, slow breaths, and focused on her physical pain, hoping it would drive this traitorous thought away. She knew it was the wrong approach, that she should let it play out so that she could process it and let it go. She clenched her fists, feeling the warm and tender emotions that were the last thing she wanted.

Eventually she let go, knowing it was inevitable.


	2. Half of my life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Daydreaming by Radiohead (though to be accurate, the title should really be "efil ym fo flaH", as it is played backwards in the song...yes, I am a music nerd)
> 
> Continued thanks to LizBee and Caressyouintodarkness!

“Fancy seeing you here.”

“Fancy seeing _you_ here, Lorca,” she replied. “I’m the one who actually works here, you’re the one who shows up with no notice to make my life more complicated.” She really didn’t have time to deal with him, but his rare appearances always brought the kind of adventures she missed having.

“The Buran is here for maintenance and the crew are on shore leave for the weekend. I don’t suppose you have time in your busy schedule to join me?”

The slow smile crept up on her face because of course she would drop everything when he showed up, that’s what she always did. She had never been able to resist this, whatever it was, that lingered between them. Any chance she had to feel it and revel in it she took without hesitation.

“My place then?” she asked. They inevitably spent their brief times together holed up somewhere, not in the mood to be around others. Her Starfleet Medical-issued quarters were plain but comfortable, perfectly suitable for their plans.

“I had something else in mind,” he said with a grin that tried to be mysterious but ended up being silly. “Meet me at the transport terminal in one hour and pack for cold weather. Oh, and bring a bathing suit and that bottle of scotch I gave you when you were promoted. I know it’s still sitting on a shelf collecting dust.” He wasn’t wrong, damn him.

She felt foolish running back to her quarters and shoving clothes into bag like a teenage runaway. She debated bringing the slightly less plain underwear she saved for these occasions but reluctantly skipped it in favor of thermal leggings. She put on the civvies she used for hiking and grabbed the bottle, briefly considering taking a swig for courage. This was probably unhealthy, this desire to drop everything to be with him like a lovesick kid. She would analyse it later when she was alone with her thoughts.

She met him at exactly the appointed time and saw that he had arrived early. Seeing him leaning against the wall so casually, staring at her with unmasked intensity sent a small thrill up her spine. She willed it away. “So, where are you whisking me away to? I have to say, I’m pretty curious by now.”

“Nope, no spoilers. Step on the platform and you'll find out.” His grin was infectious and she followed without hesitation. He entered the coordinates himself and she shut her eyes in anticipation. Once rematerialized, she opened them again and saw the location name posted on a nearby sign.

“Reykjavik? In January? Are you insane?” She could feel herself shivering already.

“It’s the best time to visit Iceland, trust me. This is the most beautiful place on the entire planet, let me show you.”

“You had better do it quickly then, I think this place only gets a few hours of daylight this time of year,” she said doubtfully as she zipped up her padded jacket and put on her gloves.

“Daylight is overrated,” he said simply as he took her hand and started up the hill lined with small houses and mounds of snow. She felt her temperature rising at this sudden physical display of affection. It was something they never did, as dictated by the unwritten, unspoken set of rules they had between them. Never show affection in public, never spend more than a few days together at a time, and never ever use the L-word.  It kept things uncomplicated, and she liked it that way.

She followed him up through small, winding streets until they reached the cathedral at the top. They spent a few moments viewing it before he pulled her to another transport terminal. This time they rematerialized in a landscape of moss-covered volcanic rocks and short birch trees lined with snow. She saw clouds of steam up ahead and the spray of a geyser in the distance. Speechless, they approached the hot spring where a handful of bathers lounged. A small sign in Icelandic and English read “The Secret Lagoon”. He squeezed her hand and pointed to the short building full of changing rooms. “I’ll meet you in the water,” he said simply and walked off.

After changing into her Starfleet-issue suit, she gingerly made her way to the hot spring, shivering in the cold the entire way. Her feet were numb by the time she stepped into the water and the sudden heat made them prickle. She sighed and closed her eyes as she walked further in, letting the warmth melt away the chill and every ache and pain she hadn’t known were there.

“Katrina!” she heard him call, and she opened her eyes to find him a short distance away. She made her way over to him and couldn’t help grinning. “I told you that you’d like this,” he said teasingly, “am I right?” She nodded and he grinned back.

They found a shallow area close enough to the thermal vent to be deliciously warm but not too hot and sat down. He took her foot in his lap and gently dug his thumb into a pressure point that made her spine melt. She leaned back, feeling blissful and at peace. It would be so easy to get used to this, but she knew not to let herself do that.

They spent an hour lounging in the thermal pool, chatting about their latest projects and exchanging gossip about their mutual friends and colleagues. Eventually the sky started to darken and she looked at her chronometer to see it was 1500. That was strangely disorienting and she found herself getting drowsy from the heat. He tugged at her hand as she started to doze off and declared it time to head over to their next stop. Once dried off and dressed she felt deeply relaxed, even in the bitter cold. She was starting to feel as though she was in the middle of a really great dream and told him as much. He laughed at that and thanked her for the compliment. They returned to the center of Reykjavik and made their way to a small restaurant near the harbor for lamb stew, grilled lake trout and fresh bread. The food and conversation were delicious and she savored it all while wishing each moment could be preserved in her memory for eternity, like a fly in amber.

Their last stop was in a more remote part of the island where small cabins with domed glass roofs dotted the snow-covered landscape. She shivered slightly, a combination of anticipation and cold.

“This way,” he said while gesturing and she followed him to the most remote cabin. Once inside she immediately went to the bed under the domed roof and looked up.

“This is incredible,” she exclaimed while flopping down on the bed. She had gazed at the stars and traveled among them, but they had never been so beautiful. Perhaps it was the company? He joined her on the bed, the bottle of scotch and two glasses in hand.

“It will be a while before the northern lights are visible, but I figured we could find some ways to pass the time.” His voice had that low, gravely quality that made her weak. He poured them each two fingers of scotch and the first sip brought back a very specific memory.

“The first time I drank scotch with you, it was straight from the bottle. I still cringe at our blasphemy, but we were young and didn’t know any better.”

“I hope at least some of your memories from that time don’t make you cringe. I recall something closer to moaning than cringing, don’t you?”

Of course she did, and her face felt hot all of the sudden.

He dipped in to kiss her and she felt herself melting and kissing him back with a sudden fervor. They fell into the same familiar rhythm, like the steps of a much-practiced dance. He took his time peeling off the many layers she had on, kissing each bit of skin as it was revealed. She didn’t have that same level of patience and tried to remove his jacket and shirt as quickly as possible, hungry for the sight of him. He laughed and held her hands, chiding her impatience.

“We aren’t in any hurry, Kat, we have all night and a nearly full bottle of scotch. No need to rush it, we aren’t hiding in a supply closet this time.” Another memory, a mostly fond one.

His laid-back demeanor only made it worse and she found herself whimpering under his touch, wanting more. She hated this feeling of weakness, but a certain part of her in the back of her mind enjoyed it, even craved it. He left kisses down her body and she arched into him, grabbing his hair at the feeling of his tongue on her. He took his time, drawing each gasp and sigh from her with practiced ease. When he finally slid into her she let out a sharp breath, her senses briefly overloaded with how fucking good it felt. 

She let him pin her arms over her head, relishing the helplessness as he drove into her. She really needed to examine where this submissive tendency came from and why Gabriel was the only one who could bring it out of her. “I’ll never get tired of fucking you,” he muttered in her ear, driving his point home with a particularly skilled thrust.

“Half of my life and you are still the only one who makes me feel like this, the only one who has ever made me feel like this.” The admission brought tears to her eyes, which she blinked away, hoping he would chalk it up to something said in a moment of passion. He kissed her tenderly, moving his hands to her face. He stared at her intently and she suspected that he was about to say something, perhaps make an admission of his own. She didn’t think she could handle something like that, so she pre-empted him by flipping them over, straddling him while pinning down his shoulders. He looked up at her with what looked like awe and she felt strangely triumphant as she rode him. She could banish traitorous thoughts and tendencies with pure physicality, keeping everything neatly under her control.

That feeling was short lived as she quickly felt herself losing control, moving frantically as she chased down bliss.

“Fuck, Gabriel,” she shouted breathlessly as she came, seeing stars behind her closed eyes. When she opened her eyes she saw the first pale streaks of green light in the sky, moving like ribbons. He groaned beneath her and froze before relaxing with deep panting breaths. She fell next to him, staring up at the illuminated sky.

“What is it with us fucking under celestial phenomena,” he said, a smirk in his voice. “First the Perseids, then that shore leave on the planet with five moons and now the Aurora Borealis. Would you call this a pattern, doctor? Is it indicative of an unhealthy association of sex with stars? Is there a deeper meaning?”

She laughed and swatted at him.  “When two people have a habit of occasionally hooking up, and that habit lasts twenty six years, patterns are going emerge. That doesn’t mean that they have a deeper meaning. Sometimes sex under the stars is just sex under the stars. Particularly good sex, I might add.”

He looked quite pleased when she said that. She relaxed next to him and he handed her the glass of scotch she had forgotten about. They sipped while watching the breathtaking beauty in the sky. Warm and sated, she cuddled with him a bit, something they usually avoided. She sighed, suddenly remembering something she had to tell him.

“So, I’ve been hearing rumors from HQ which I don’t quite believe, but a few people have said I’m on the short list for promotion next quarter.” She was reluctant to tell him about this, but she owed him the truth. His response seemed to be elation.

“Admiral Cornwell has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?” He clinked his glass against hers and kissed her forehead. “You don’t seem as pleased about this as I am,” he said, noticing her sudden stiffness.

“It’s the same thing we always deal with when one of us goes up in rank, the whole fraternization issue. I wouldn’t be your direct supervisor, but we might have to avoid each other for awhile and I hate that.” Even a non-relationship had to follow the rules, and they had always done so. One break lasted four years and she had almost forgotten why she kept going back to him. When he was finally promoted to Commander, they went to Risa and didn’t leave their room for a week.

“You know, this thing we have is pretty much an open secret in Starfleet. About ten years ago, my first officer admitted that there was a pretty extensive betting pool to predict if and when we would make it official. I’m pretty sure we’ve outlasted every prediction on there. I think by now we’ve earned the right to skirt the rules just a little.”

She sighed deeply and took another sip. “I don’t think it works that way, but I appreciate your optimism.” She relaxed next to him, letting the scotch sink into her bones. “Thank you for this, you know me too well.”

“Even the most dedicated almost-admirals need a break now and then." She smiled up at the sky, agreeing with him.

\------------------------------------------------

“Fuck,” she said to herself, removing her jacket from over her head and dabbing at the tears that were streaming down her cheeks. Contrary to her intention, this memory made her feel significantly worse than the punches and slaps she had recently endured.

That trip to Iceland was their last purely joyful moment together. Their vague plans to continue their non-relationship were halted once she was promoted to Rear Admiral. He didn’t even show up for the ceremony, his ship on a deep space mission at the time. While he did send her a congratulatory message, it rang strangely hollow. She didn’t think it was jealousy but she could never get an accurate read on his thoughts. As per usual, he hid his emotions with sarcasm, a quality she used to find amusing but now found extremely frustrating.

They still checked in on each other from time to time, but it was always in a professional capacity, with no sense of their previous intimacy. Perhaps that was why, when he offered the bottle of scotch and then sex to keep her from asking too many questions, she took the bait. She missed him, plain and simple.


	3. Uncover our heads and reveal our souls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Keep the Streets Empty for Me by Fever Ray
> 
> It has been a delight to get caught up in this fandom! Thank you kindly for your kudos and reads!

She estimated a week had passed until they came for her again. She kept to a routine, sleeping and exercising at regular intervals, rationing her food and water. She didn’t work out as intensely as she had earlier, still nursing some aches from the initial interrogation, but made sure to do some strength training every day. She studied the cell methodically under the guise of exercising, feeling each wall for points of weakness. She memorized the guard rotation and intervals between food and water deliveries. She spent hours sitting quietly, feigning meditation while listening intently for signs of other prisoners.

She was tempted to retreat back into that memory from Iceland but caught herself every time. “Maybe later,” she told herself. “Save it for when you really need it.”

It was a different Klingon interrogating her this time, one who wore red markings painted on his face. He chained her standing against a wall and didn’t bother with the pleasantries of starting with questions. He brandished a long metal stick and touched her arm with it briefly. The pain was immediate and jarring, causing each muscle to intensely convulse. She didn’t bother with the stoicism and just screamed, knowing that holding back would make it worse. The Klingon laughed and touched the baton to her knee, making her collapse and hang from the chains on her arms. From a detached part of her mind, she could hear the anguish in her screams.

He launched into questions about Discovery’s propulsion drive and she could only hang her head and shake as she tried to catch her breath. She tried to find a place in her mind to hide as she had done before, but it was more difficult this time. She had never faced anything like this, even in her training. Resistance to electrocution was something taught to special forces, not psychiatrists. She slowly tried to stand up but collapsed again, her weakened legs folding under her. The Klingon laughed and touched the baton to her neck.

She had lost all sense of time and location by the time she was returned to her cell. She hadn’t said a word to her interrogator, which indicated that this was less of an interrogation and more like sadism run rampant. She had read plenty on Klingon psychology and this fixation with pain was a common factor. She had stopped processing what was happening to her but distinctly remembered the Klingon saying he was impressed that a human female of her age could tolerate so much pain. She would have smirked at him if she could have.

Lying on the floor, every cell in her body burning, she couldn’t even cry. After hours of counting each shaky breath in and out, she felt herself drifting off. Rather than dreaming, the one memory she had been avoiding stared her in the face. This time she didn’t resist

\--------------------------------------------------------

“You weren’t kidding about this place being remote,” she said, glad that she hadn’t listened to her roommate's suggestion to wear a dress. This was Lorca, not a date. The weird nebulous thing between them was nowhere near dating territory. She was also glad she had listened to her instincts and worn hiking boots. They had walked about two kilometers into a field in the middle of nowhere with no sign of stopping. The lamps they carried illuminated the path ahead of them, but she couldn’t see beyond that. She was starting to get impatient, wondering if he knew what he was doing. After a few more minutes he stopped suddenly, looking up at the sky.

“Here it is, the perfect spot.” He didn’t hide his elation at finding wherever this was and he started unpacking the rucksack he had brought. Katrina still had no idea how he had determined this to be the right spot. He hadn’t used any sort of navigational aid or even a tricorder. She was used to this from him. He would operate on pure instinct if he could get away with it. She wasn’t allowed to counsel her friends during her internship, but she did keep notes on Gabriel. The little observations that intrigued her, the strangely poignant things he said at just the right moment. She felt a small amount of guilt, but it didn’t stop her.

He spread out a blanket and gestured for her to sit down. She was once again glad she hadn’t worn a dress. He handed her a bottle of scotch, and it looked like the good stuff.

“Where did you get this?” she asked, impressed.

“I have my sources,” he said, trying to be mysterious. When she rolled her eyes at him, he admitted that it was a gift for working on a special project. When she rolled her eyes again, he admitted that he had helped one of his instructors with a long and tedious equipment inventory and received the bottle as thanks. She faked shock that Starfleet Academy professors would bribe students with booze and then doubled over laughing, unable to keep it up.

“Did you bring glasses?” she asked

“Um, no. I didn’t want them to break on the hike up. Come on, don’t be a snob and drink it from the bottle, it won’t kill you”. He handed her the bottle and she took it slowly, maintaining eye contact. She opened it and took a swig and saw his gaze momentarily grow hungry. She winced at the taste, not prepared for it, and he laughed. “Pace yourself, Kat. We have all night!”

“Speaking of which, when does the show start?” she asked, gesturing at the sky.

“Another hour or so. It’s a clear night and there’s no light pollution so it should be fantastic. Let’s turn off the lamps now so that our eyes can adjust to the dark.”

The sudden darkness was jarring and she found herself drawing closer to him, seeking his warmth. To his credit, he didn’t react. She reclined on the blanket and stared up at the stars. He soon joined her and they spent a few minutes in silence, passing the bottle back and forth.

“Do you know where your first shipboard assignment will be?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“The _Marie Curie_ , as assistant counselor under Commander Rayne. I’m so excited, I’ve heard many good things about her.” She knew it was a golden assignment, arranged by the faculty who had been impressed with her work thus far. She had a twinge of anxiety underlying the excitement, a fear of failing to live up to everyone’s expectations. She acknowledged those feelings and moved on.

“How about you? I hear you’re getting a helmsman spot on the _Tereshkova_ , which is nearly unheard of for someone coming right out of the Academy. How did that even happen?”

“Same as you, I’m the golden boy of my class and they wanted to put me in a position to move ahead quickly,” he said shrugging. “I’m not going to blow this chance and neither are you. We are a couple of overachievers, the two of us. We’ll be running Starfleet someday.” She stifled a laugh at his grand proclamations. She would have declared him delusional if he wasn’t right. Probably. Hopefully.

They continued talking about their plans for the future, the assignments they wanted and places they’d travel. After a couple more swigs of scotch, her thoughts turned to the shape of Gabriel’s mouth in the darkness as he spoke and what it would feel like to kiss him. She normally shook off those thoughts, but this time she let herself indulge. She wasn’t drunk but just buzzed enough to make her bolder than usual.

“Gabriel, can I kiss you?” she blurted out, suddenly. This shut him up and he stared at her for a few moments, blinking. “I mean, sorry, that came out wrong," she stammered awkwardly, feeling her face get hot. He responded immediately with his lips on hers, rendering her speechless. They melted into each other, kissing to the point of breathlessness.

“Wow, that was...wow,” she said, pulling away. She felt overwhelmed in the best way possible.

“I know,” he said simply. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time. You too?” She nodded vigorously.

“For about two years now, I think” she laughed. “I didn’t make any moves because I didn’t want our relationship to change. You are one of my best friends and I didn’t want to ruin that.”

“It doesn’t have to change,” he said, lifting his hand to her cheek and lightly touching it. She leaned into the touch and smiled. “Besides, we graduate in a few weeks and will be off to other assignments. We might not see each other again for a long time, or ever again if things go badly.”

“Ugh, don’t say things like that.” She moved towards him and sat in his lap, straddling him.

She gazed at him with a slight smile and dipped in to kiss him again, slowly and sweetly. His hands went to her waist as he kissed her back, his thumbs running lightly along her back. She grasped his shoulders, unsure of what to do with her hands. She wasn’t a virgin, but her experience was limited to some awkward fumblings with her former lab partner. She wanted more from Gabriel, but wasn’t sure how to communicate this.

“I, um,” she stammered, pulling away

“I’m sorry, should I stop?” he said, drawing back and looking concerned.

“No, Not at all! It’s just that I don’t really know what I’m doing. I want to…” she trailed off.

“Have sex?” he asked simply.

“Yes, definitely that,” she said, her face growing hot. “My shots are all up to date and everything.” She knew his would be too, Starfleet Medical didn’t mess around when it came to keeping Academy cadets up to date on their contraceptive injections and vaccines.

“Well, we can start slow and do whatever you are comfortable with,” he said while lightly running his thumbs over her hip bones. At that moment she regretted not wearing a dress. She wanted to get as close to him as quickly as possible. She wanted to tear his clothes off and feel his skin against hers.

She started pulling his jacket off and he slowed her hands, whispering to her that they had all night and most of the bottle of scotch. His chain of kisses down her neck weren’t helping her slow down and she was on the verge of going mad when he finally lifted her shirt over her head. He paused to stare at her with a hungry look and she felt emboldened to slowly take off her bra while he watched. A grin slowly spread across his face and he muttered, “You are so gorgeous, Kat” before his mouth went to her nipple and she pulled him close, grasping at his hair.

He led her slowly, maddeningly so, and she didn’t know whether to melt into a puddle or scream in frustration. When his trail of kisses down her bare skin led to his tongue finding her for the first time, she let out strangled wail. He teased her to the brink and she found herself whispering _pleasepleaseplease_. When he pulled back instead, she sat up and pushed him lightly onto his back. He complied with a laugh that turned into a moan as she lowered herself onto him slowly.

“Kat, are you sure you want to….ahhhhh.” His head fell back and she leaned over him, framing his head between her hands.

“Very sure,” she said with a choked back moan. She started moving her hips, trying to find a rhythm but not quite getting there. His hands once again went to her hip bones and he guided her, moving with her and under her. He reached a hand up to her breast, caressing it and then pinching it gently until she came unexpectedly, gasping and shuddering. Overwhelmed, she stilled for a moment, catching her breath, before leaning over to kiss him. She poured every complex emotion running through her into that kiss.

He flipped them over a bit awkwardly and settled between her legs, leaning over to kiss her again. She wrapped her legs around him drawing him in as his movements became erratic and he finally collapsed with a moan. He rolled off her quickly so as not to crush her and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her. She looked up to see a streak of light move across the sky.

“Look,” she said, pointing. “I think we set off the meteor shower!”

“So we have,” he laughed. He moved to sit behind her, with her between his legs. She leaned back into into him, and he grabbed another blanket from his rucksack, wrapping it around them both.

“You certainly came prepared,” she observed with one eyebrow raised.

“I always prepare for both the worst and the best,” he said with a slightly sheepish look on his face. He grabbed the forgotten bottle of scotch and handed it to her. She took a swig and felt the warmth in her belly.

“I’m glad you did,” she admitted.

They spent the night staring at the sky and passing the bottle back and forth between them. He went down on her again and the stars she saw seemed brighter than the ones in the sky. They continued talking about their grand dreams for the future, and how they both hoped to make Captain by thirty and leave their marks on Starfleet history.

She knew better than to fall in love with Gabriel Lorca, but she did hope their paths would cross again someday.

\--------------------------------------------------------------

She was shaken from her memories by the sound of the guard unlatching the door and someone entering the cell. She looked up to see a Klingon woman dressed in white with no red markings on her face. She carried a set of sharp implements which Katrina surmised would soon be used on her.

She took a deep breath and gingerly hauled herself up, gazing at the torture implements with a shudder passing through her. No matter what happened to her, she would not break. She had seen too much, lived too much, loved too much to give up and she wanted to keep living. She would return to Starfleet and have that talk with Gabriel. Get him the help he needed and maybe even tell him that she had loved him for 30 years and would love him 30 years more. She would win this war and live to see peace once again. Katrina looked the Klingon woman in the eye, her head held high.

“Scream,” said the Klingon.


End file.
